How can i paint the sky the softest shade of blue when i see it blood-red
How do i keep this smile on my face when the happiness inside has long been
Dead

How does my heart not starve and perish if it is not fed
How must my faith survive amidst all these prayers lying still and
Dead

How does my voice learn to speak those words always left unsaid
How should my fingers reach out for someone when all they touch ends up
Dead

How shall my hand not wither after a lifetime of not being held
How must i ignore the yearning of this body, never sleeping, never
Dead

How am i to dream sweet dreams when shadows dwell under my bed
How can the nights be less dark and cold when the fire of my hearth stays
Dead

How many tears, to be finally cleansed of pain, must these eyes shed
How can i believe in this thing called love when hope after hope is struck
Dead

How will i pick the pieces of my sanity after it surrenders to the war inside my head
How do i write the most memorable masterpieces with an imagination as good as
Dead

How must i go on walking when i've so often been misled
How shall i not be afraid of a world which has shot all its heroes
Dead

How can i trust in destiny when i've already travelled the road ahead
How much good fortune, after all, can come to a person whose guardian angel is
Dead

How can i keep on living when my life is on its deathbed
Already
Dead